Wrapped and wound so tightly around Ron that one could not tell where the other began. Kissing feverishly, with her eyes closed, plainly enjoying the experience. And Ron, openly enjoying it as well, with his hands moving lower and lower down her back...
Hermione threw her wand against the wall and released a tight sob from her lungs.
Finding Ron kissing another girl was devastating in itself, but to have had her newfound hopes dashed along with it, was simply too much. Just a few days earlier Ron had quietly admitted he'd rather not see Hermione go to Slughorn's party with another boy. She had been elated to think that Ron might possibly return her feelings.
However, she had clearly been wrong in her interpretation of that statement. By kissing Lavender, he had shown her in possibly the most unmistakable way, that she could no longer live under the illusion that Ron might one day come around.
Pacing, Hermione let out a strangled scream. Anger, hurt and resentment boiled in the pit of her stomach. She roughly shoved her four-poster bed and then kicked her dresser drawer. As pain overcame fury, she leaned against the dormitory wall and slowly sank to the floor.
Now that she thought back on it, her hopes seemed quite silly. Over the years, as her infatuation slowly grew, she discovered the type of girl Ronald Weasley desired. The dancing veela at the World Cup, Fleur, and Lavender herself had proved her suspicions correct. Being beautiful and flirtatious were the only two important attributes Ron looked for in a female.
Propping her folded arms up on her knees, Hermione buried her head and crouched lower. She kept her eyes closed tightly, despite the hot tears that streamed down her face.
She knew that she would never be beautiful or flirtatious, and any attempt would only end up being a joke. Her bushy brown hair would never be sleek or shiny. Her rather average face would never compare to many of the girls she knew, with large, glittering eyes, fluttering eyelashes, and pink, glossy lips. Her interaction with the opposite sex was limited to correcting wrong answers and dutiful reprimanding.
In fact, when push came to shove, she could almost understand Ron's choice of snogging partner. Lavender was quite possibly as close as one could get to the embodiment of said two features.
Because she shared the dormitory with Parvati and Lavender, Hermione had inadvertently learned much about them. Lavender rarely deviated from discussing fashion, boys, and gossip. Her closet contained an astounding amount of clothing and accessories to dress up the required Hogwarts uniform, and her dresser drawer held a variety of makeup.
'Not that she really needs makeup,' Hermione thought scornfully.
No, Lavender certainly didn't need makeup, but simply used it to enhance her natural beauty. Smooth skin, round lips, and somewhat large eyes complimented her high cheekbones and tall forehead. Her always perfectly styled brown-blonde hair fell just below her shoulders. Tall and thin, her body posed no problem. It seemed that the only physical features Hermione had ever heard Lavender truly complain about were her ears.
Despite the ache that still resided somewhere near her heart, Hermione eventually wiped the half-dried tears from her face. Getting to her feet, she retrieved her abused wand and righted her bed. Looking out the window, she saw fluffy white snow falling softly from the sky. Deciding that what she needed now was an everyday, mundane task, Hermione gathered her toiletries and headed towards the nearby girls' dormitory bathroom.
After a lengthy shower, Hermione emerged from the steam-filled room donning her favorite bathrobe, the one Mum gave her two Christmas' ago. Treading down the spiral staircase, she desperately tried to right herself emotionally. Even though warm showers normally gave her heavy eyelids and a tendency to yawn, thoughts were now ricocheting off the insides of her head at a fast pace.
Collecting herself as much as possible, she retrieved her Ancient Runes textbook, and climbed into bed. Thoroughly determined to finish her review of the last chapter, Hermione drew the curtains around her bed.
Around a half-hour later, giddy, if perhaps near hysterical, voices traveled up into the dormitory.
"I can't believe it Lav, you did it!"
"I know, isn't it great?" came a second voice, carrying a trace of smugness.
"And you've been right all year, haven't you? He never did fancy-" the voice lowered to a hushed whisper, "Hermione, did he?"
A derisive laugh followed, "Oh, God no Parvati. Didn't you see how he was kissing me back, in the common room?"
"Well, yes, but then you two left…" the first voice trailed, with a slightly insinuating tone tagged onto the end.
"To find an empty classroom, of course!"
Here, the conversation adjourned, as a fit of giggling ensued.
Hermione had long ago stopped reading her text book. Quickly, trying to find her wand in the folds of her bed sheets, she tried her best to stifle the sounds of her sobbing. Casting an imperturbable charm to contain any further noise she made, Hermione curled up in her bed, and indulged in her sorrow.